Langar - a kind of closing

Trip Start Nov 14, 2007

Trip End Apr 20, 2009

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Flag of Tajikistan Langar, Tajikistan
Monday, August 25, 2008

As we all know the world is a very strange place. But just in case we are tempted to forget, along comes something so absurd that we are jolted back into our reality.

I felt very much in this position - brought back into humble alignment with our glorious planet (against my will) - when viewing the Brits contribution to the Beijing closing ceremony.

To the Brits defence, most things on television viewed from the Tajik-Afghan border come across as a little out of touch. I had already experienced near-epileptic spasms when 2 days earlier, on the hustings in the village of Langar; a wonderful Wakhi-Tajik family spontaneously invited our party into their home for Chai. Wanting to make us feel comfortable she instinctively shuffled the TV into view and turned to the only English Channel available to her satellite

Yamchun Fort II

. Over the steam of a hot cuppa we watched a pastor of the World Bible Fellowship, revving himself up for a wrestling bout which was obviously about to take place somewhere in the auditorium in front of him. It was a tough fight and hard to know who won. Said pastor after 10 minutes of non-stop granular a cappella, was now lying motionless on the floor. Apparently he had been knocked out by the Lord.

And all present were eternally grateful to Him.

But back to the other Games.

This time in a different Wakhi-Tajik household but equally as hospitable. Fatefully, over dinner we had intercepted the live feed of the Games closing ceremony at the time that British were wowing the crowd with a taste of things to come circa 4 years time. Things were already a little confusing- the corner of the screen said 'live' but it was the 26th, 18 days not 16, since the games opening.

"Maybe the closing ceremony has been going for three days?" I offer, as a face saving gesture to our party on behalf of the Tajiki Government broadcasters

Yamchun Fort III

. (Christina gave me a cute wink- it's always good to have people who love you nearby when no-one else gets the joke.)

But, really, back to the Games.

The British were really turning it on for the closing ceremony. This was their moment!

Cue a benign gang wearing flouro headbands mobbing a London bus with interpretive dance, from which a girl holding a soccer ball emerges and is passed around- or something like that.

Then the bus began- rather inappropriately- to peel open as if blown apart by a bomb.

"Oh shit" I choked on my plov, "they're actually doing this, aren't they?"

As yet I could not find a narrative to what was happening and I categorically ruled out that a Bus being disassembled like a tin-can had any positive narrative intent whatsoever. The lack of an obvious narrative was not helped by the indecipherable Russian commentary which was filled with moments of heavy laughter, but come to think of it, was just constant laughter

Kid on a Donkey

. Anglo-Russian relations are certainly at a low ebb.

Nonetheless, I turned to see what affect this was having on our fine host.

Shto delyet bi dumatye? (So, what do you think?)

Wordless, he gave me a look which was to say - 'What the fuck is this?'

I emphatically agreed as a face saving gesture to our fine host on behalf of our party and I turned to our party and insisted that something seriously British were needed to arrest the slide:

"They definitely need either Morrissey or Jarvis Cocker to show up right now." I offer, as a face saving gesture to our party on behalf of the British Crown.

Then the earth moved (metaphorically speaking, but the Wakhan is extremely active seismically. Ed). As if on cue (actually, probably on cue - these things are so carefully choreographed now days

Just taking his weed for a walk

. Ed) who should rise from the bus but the world's most famous occultist: Jimmy 'mud-shark' Page (Google it, you'll see).

With a young female singer in tow Jimmy led into the opening riff of "Whole Lotta Love". He was magic; even after 2 minutes he had a convincing sweat on the brow. His playing was as faultless as it was energetic and did much to take the attention away from the obvious query of a self-confessed Led Zep-ophile: 'So where the heck are Jonesy, Robert and Son of Bonzo?'

But the Devil's 2-IC had never looked better.

To my great disappointment however, the young singer in Robert Plant's absence, obviously stage frightened, forgot to sing the song's immortal final stanza. Here it is in case you have stage fright too:

"Shake for me Girl, I wanna be your back door man
......hey......ho......oooooooo.......oh.......oh.......push it."

That's right

Front seat on the Wakhan road

. Dangs all round. This was Chinese censors at their most heinous!

Though things had definitely gotten better as a guide to my overall confusion, however, try a word association game on the following:

Occult
Chinese Government
Whole Lotta Love
Jimmy Page
Olympic Games
Push it.

Things then took another dramatic turn when now thrust to the top of the bus to join Jimmy was none other than David 'Goldenballs' Beckham. It was the apparent Coup de Grace. He stood and stood and stood to rapturous applause and cheers. And still he stood, doing what he does best, yes, even better than how he plays football- he was being David Beckham.

I saw where this was going to go with the headlines of London Tabloids, lest the London games official motto itself:

"Beck it and they will come"

It was at this time that my brain was sending me urgent signals that failure was imminent (I still reach for the bottle of Diazepam whenever I see that ridiculous London 20-12 logo- A class action may soon follow

The Wakhan Valley from Yamchun Fort

. And I am sure there is something in my travel insurance for the appearance of a rash on my eyelids.). So I feigned a gut ache and headed for the drop dunny outside.

There, crouched astride the putrid abyss, I reflected on what I had just seen and pondered if Britain - whose younger generations still toil awkwardly with the wounds of the memory of empire - is trying a little too hard to be as inglorious as possible about hosting their games, avoiding there genetic disposition to pomp and ceremony at all costs lest someone point the finger at their old colonial features: Deccan nose, Suez spine and a Hong Kong smile.

Ahhhh..... My Wakhan turd is done.

Phew. I need a lie down.